


Father Figure

by blakefancier



Series: Young Lovers [27]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 11:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve isn't a fan of drugs, Howard and Tony have feels, and life is good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Father Figure

**Author's Note:**

> After spending several days with the family for Thanksgiving, I am filled with joy and mirth. Have some joy and mirth.

The room was too bright and someone kept slamming doors and Jesus fucking Christ, Howard's *eyeballs* hurt and he was pretty sure something died in his mouth and his brain felt it was running at half-speed. Fuck, now he remembered why he stayed away from pot. He could handle being hung over, and oh, God was he hung over—Jack Daniels was not his friend— but pot left him groggy and stupid. He grunted then groaned and buried his face in his pillows. 

"Get up, Jerry Garcia," Steve said, stealing his pillows and pulling the covers from his body. "Come on, get up!"

"Too loud. Too bright." He flailed around, looking for another pillow.

"Maybe you should've thought of that before you got high." Steve slammed another door and Howard winced.

He slowly lifted his head and stared blurrily at Steve. "Are you pissed at me?"

"Yes." Steve handed him a glass of water and some aspirin. 

Howard swallowed the aspirin and finished the water. "Why?"

"Were you really high?" Steve sat on the bed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"It was just pot, Steve."

Steve clenched his jaw and Howard knew what the next words out of his mouth would be. "So you wouldn't care if Tony smoked pot? Or if I did?" 

He sat up and took a couple of deep breaths to manage the nausea. "That's different. I'm an adult." 

"That's not an excuse." Steve worried at his bottom lip and then said softly, "I don't like drugs. I don't… I won't be with someone who does drugs." 

"You're making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be." He ran his fingers through his hair. "It's the first time I've smoked pot in… twenty years. I'm not going to suddenly start doing lines and shooting up."

Steve slumped his shoulders and looked away. "I don't like it."

Okay, there had to be story there. He sighed and reached over to gently rub Steve's back. "Look, I promise not to do it again. It was stupid of me to do it at all. Okay?"

Steve shrugged.

"Hey, look at me. C'mon, look at me." Steve looked over and Howard pulled him close. "What's going on? Is your mom all right?"

"She's fine." Steve presses his face against Howard's neck. "You really promise not to do it again?"

"I swear." He stroked Steve's hair and kissed his temple. 

"Okay," Steve said softly, then pulled away. "You should take a shower. You smell."

"Gimme five minutes." He flopped back on the bed. 

"Nope, now." Steve slapped him on the chest. "Tony's probably got a bunch of drug jokes he's been waiting to pull out. You should get it over with as soon as possible."

Howard groaned and covered his face.

"Here, maybe some music will help." A moment later the sounds of Pink Floyd's _The Wall_ filled the room. 

"Seriously?" He pulled his hands from his face and glared at Steve, who just grinned.

"It was either that or _Purple Haze_."

"I hate you."

"I'm just the opening act." Steve smacked him one more time, this time on the hip, before getting to his feet. "C'mon, move it, soldier!"

Howard burrowed under the blankets and covered his ears.

***** 

He slept for a few hours more, which helped with the hangover, but he still felt like his brain was running in slow motion. Never, ever, again. He stumbled downstairs to the kitchen—he needed coffee.

Tony, who was sitting at the island eating a sandwich, grinned at him. "Hey, Cheech, where's Chong? Did he go off to score some more Mary Jane?" 

Howard glared at Tony and growled. 

"Wow, weed makes you mean. Did Steve tell you to stay off the grass? Is that why you're mad?" Tony wagged a finger at him. "Just say no, Dad. Just say no."

"Tony, not before I've had my first cup of coffee."

"Aw, but Dad, I put together a demonstration and everything. All I need is an egg and a frying pan!"

"Master Anthony, I really don't think I can spare another dozen eggs," Jarvis said, coming into the kitchen. "Good afternoon, sir. Would you care for a sandwich?"

Howard flushed a little, remembering Jarvis's exasperation the night before. "Yes, that would be nice, thank you." As Jarvis moved past him, Howard touched his arm. "Remind me to double your Christmas bonus this year, Jarvis. And give you an extra week of paid vacation."

"Very good, sir." 

He was pretty sure he wasn't imagining the gleam of satisfaction in Jarvis's eyes.

***** 

Howard didn't quite feel close to 100% until his fourth cup of coffee and his second sandwich. By that time, Tony had finished lunch and was watching Howard with an amused look. "What?"

"I can't believe you and Uncle Eddie—"

He cut Tony off. "It was a stupid thing to do. You know that it was stupid, right?"

"Relax, Dad. Steve gave me the drug talk." Tony rolled his eyes. "If you ever marry him, he'll either be the best or the worst step-dad ever. I haven’t decided which yet."

Howard sighed. "I hate it when you say things like that. It hurts my brain."

"How do you think I feel?" Tony grinned. "I saw him first."

"Well, luckily I don't remember three year old him." He ran his fingers through a smear of mustard on his plate.

Tony hummed absentmindedly and stood up. "Well, Dad—"

"Do you want to work on the Roadster with me?" he blurted out.

"W-What?" Tony blinked at him.

He took a deep breath. "Do you want to help me restore the Roadster?"

"Really?" Tony asked, a hopeful note in his voice.

"Yeah. It could be… I…" Howard bit the inside of his cheek; why was he still so bad at this? "You should help me with the Roadster."

"Okay." Tony rocked back on his heels. "When?"

"What are you doing tomorrow morning?" He licked the mustard from his finger.

"Helping you?"

Howard grinned and Tony grinned back. "That's right, helping me."

***** 

"Wow, this car's a mess," Tony said, peering at the engine.

"Yeah, but we shouldn't have any problems getting parts." Howard frowned and wiped his forehead with the back of his arm.

Tony made a sound of approval, then cleared his throat. "Did you ever do this with Granddad?" 

"Not really. Dad thought I was too clumsy." Howard shrugged. "Eddie did though. They were restoring a Roadster when… when Eddie ran away from home. Didn't see Eddie again for six years."

Tony glanced at him. "You missed him?"

"Every day." Howard smiled wistfully. He'd been angry, too. Eddie had promised to take Howard with him. "But I knew why he did it. He was never comfortable with the Stark name, with what it meant. I think he was resentful that our mother divorced his birth father to marry my dad."

"Are you?" Tony asked curiously, staring intently at the car engine. "Comfortable with what our name means. With what we do?"

"I…" Howard fought to urge to be flippant. "Sometimes I'm not. But I'm a Stark and what we do, what we are, that's the burden I carry. That's the burden you'll carry, too. Someday." 

Tony tensed, suddenly, and when he spoke, his voice shook. "What if I don’t want it?"

"Then you better be damn sure that whoever you hand it off to is someone you can trust, because it's our name on the building, Tony. It's our name on the weapons. And innocent blood doesn't wash off. Not ever." He didn't mean to sound so harsh, so angry, but Tony didn't seem disturbed by it.

Instead, Tony nodded. After a moment, he looked over at Howard. "You've got oil on your face."

"I do? Where?" He wiped at his cheeks with a clean rag.

"Here." Tony deliberately streaked oil along his forehead, then grinned.

"Oh, Tony," Howard said and shook his head. "You realize this means war."

Tony bolted for the door, but Howard managed to grab a hold of his arm. He yelped when oil was poured down his back.

***** 

Jarvis refused to let them back in the house until they'd washed off using the emergency shower in the garage.

It was worth it.


End file.
